Dillingham Residence, Georgetown
One Week Later (June 22)
2 p.m.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?"
Elizabeth slid her key into the lock and opened her front door. "Myles, Marty Pavone is coming to your place after dinner to discuss the case against Graham. I'm basically the prosecution's only breathing witness. How can I face Graham in court if I'm afraid to walk into my own house?"
They stepped into the house. There was a musty smell, since the house hadn't been open in nearly two weeks. Elizabeth immediately walked across the foyer to the French doors that looked onto the back patio and swung them wide open, letting a breeze in. "That's a start," she said. "First step."
Myles caught the tremor in her voice, though, and walked over to stand behind her, his arms around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder. "Good job," he murmured. "But if this gets to be too much—"
"You're doing it again, Agent Leland."
"What?"
She turned in his arms and gave him a brief kiss before answering. "Babying me, that's what. I love you dearly for wanting to protect me, but please, knock it off." She reached up to ruffle his hair. "What I need from you, sir knight, is a heavy dose of tough love right now. And that means letting me take as many steps as I can by myself, but being there to catch me if I fall too hard. And not letting me crawl back into my shell when I do fall. Think you can handle that?"
"I'll try." He drew her closer, stroking her dark hair. "So, what's next?"
"I'm going upstairs, that's what." Her voice was steady, but her eyes were uncertain.
"All right. Lead on." He released her, motioning her ahead of him. She shot him a look, and he stepped back. "You said you wanted tough love. Go on."
She smiled, a trifle faintly, but squared her shoulders and marched up the stairs. He followed her, but stopped at the top while she continued down the hallway.
Elizabeth stood in the doorway to her bedroom, one hand on the doorsill. After a few minutes, her legs started to shake slightly, but she stood her ground. "Uh… Myles?"
"You need to be caught?"
"I think so." She slumped against him when he reached her and grabbed her shoulders. "I'm never going to be able to sleep in here. I can still see that awful scene Graham left."
Myles resisted the impulse to draw her face to his chest, to block what she was seeing. "Well, then, I think you have two options. One, you can just stay at my place indefinitely. We're kind of headed in that direction, anyway."
The comment brought a smile to her face as she turned to face him. "Myles, you are not getting out of a decent proposal that way. Besides, the last thing you need in your life is a wife who can't stay in a house by herself. Your schedule is unpredictable at best, chaotic at worst. I need to be strong on my own again before I can be strong with you."
He smiled back at her. "I thought that would be your answer, but I figured I'd bring the option up anyway. So the other option looks like your only one."
"And what would that be?"
"Time to spend a little of your grandfather's trust fund and completely remodel this room. Paint, carpet, furniture, the works. You told me you've never touched that money, except as the down payment on this house, and you paid all that back. I think this situation demands a little shopping spree." His eyes sparkled at her. "Isn't that supposed to be the female universal cure-all?"
Elizabeth laughed, a great amount of the tension draining from her. "Well, it's never really been mine, but since I can't go near any of the poetry books in your library just yet…" She clenched her fists slightly. "Oh, that's what really makes me the angriest. He took that from me… I could sit for hours engrossed in Tennyson or Browning… now any poem brings back that awful one from Byron. Which I never thought was awful until now."
"I know," he replied softly. "I used to love coming home to find you curled up in the library. The absolute joy on your face as you read. I hope you get that back."
"Well, in the meantime, I think you're right. I think remodeling will be the perfect therapy. It will get me over here for a fair length of time at a stretch, and a change of scenery would be nice." She stepped fully into the room now, turning to face him. "And no contractors. I want to do this ourselves. Or myself, if you're not up to a little physical labor." Her eyes teased him as much as her voice.
Myles looked insulted. "I beg your pardon? This is the woman who wanted to have a landscaper come in to plant four trees? Who ended up putting them in for you, since it was a waste of good money to hire it out?"
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Leland Residence, Columbia Heights
7 p.m.
Marty Pavone accepted a cup of coffee and got down to business. "They're going to push for the death penalty, folks," he began. "That means you, Dr. Dillingham, as well as the entire unit will be put on the stand during this mess."
Elizabeth shared a long gaze with Myles before she answered. "Mr. Pavone—"
"It's Marty, please. I've worked with Myles' unit enough to consider them almost family. You're obviously included."
Her cheeks colored slightly. "Marty, won't the defense essentially rip Myles apart on the stand? I mean, it's not like he's completely impartial in this. What about that 'conflict of interest' thing?"
Myles answered her. "If I know where Marty's going with this, I'll only be a witness for that portion of the charges that occurred before we realized you were Graham's target. I was the case agent up until that point."
Marty nodded. "That's true. But we'll also need you as a witness in the charges he's facing for what he did to Dr. Dillingham as well."
Elizabeth smiled. "If I'm calling you Marty, it's Elizabeth. Or Liz."
He nodded again and continued. "Mostly for the aftermath Elizabeth is going through now, but also because you received a call from Graham as well, plus the package he sent to the office. He was stalking both of you, not just Elizabeth."
"I see," Myles replied.
"Oh, just so you know, the note that you all found in the utility tunnel will be presented as evidence. Agent Gans informed me you hadn't looked at it, Myles?"
Elizabeth swung her gaze around to him in surprise. "What note?"
Myles leaned forward, his hands folded on the table and a disquieted look on his face. "There was an envelope we found just below the access ladder where you and Graham exited. It had my name on it. D wouldn't let me look at it there, and I chose not to later." He looked up at her. "We knew it wasn't a ransom, and I decided not to run his maze. I figured you'd have told me the same thing if you'd been there. So, no, Marty; I haven't seen what it said. Frankly, I'd just as soon not know."
"I understand," the AUSA replied, "but it's part of the case we're building of just what lengths this maniac went to. I have read it, and it is crude in the extreme. I just wanted to warn you; it will be read in open court."
"Do you have it with you, Marty?" Elizabeth's voice was very quiet.
He nodded. "Yes; a photocopy of it, anyway. I wanted to give the two of you the opportunity, just so you don't hear it for the first time unprepared."
The agent and the psychologist shared a long glance, and something passed between them. Then Myles sat back and said, "Marty, could you give us a few minutes alone while we look at it together?"
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9:30 p.m.
"The preliminary hearing is set for next Thursday at 10 a.m. Why don't the two of you come by my office Wednesday afternoon and we'll get set up?"
"Thanks, Marty." Myles shook his hand firmly. "We'll be there." He closed the door as the attorney headed for his car. Myles locked the door and switched on the alarm system, then went back to sit with Elizabeth on the sofa. "You okay?" he asked softly.
She didn't reply, just moved into his embrace and wept in his arms for the space of about ten minutes. He held her tightly, stroking her hair, until she could look up at him again.
"I'm glad you didn't have to read that while you were down in the tunnel," she finally said, tears still on her cheeks. "How anyone could be so hateful, so perverse, so utterly cruel, is beyond imagination."
He wiped away the tears with his fingers, his jaw tensing slightly as he saw the faint-but-still-visible bruises on her beautiful face. "Sweetheart, he was bad enough eight years ago. He's had all that time to stew about this, and to let the hate grow. Frankly, that note sickened me, but it didn't really surprise me."
"The press is going to have a field day with us; you know that, right?" Her voice was muffled as she leaned on his shoulder. "The press, the defense, probably even the other victims' families— I don't know if I can handle all that hostility along with having to face Graham again."
"Hey." He drew her face up until he could look into the emerald depths of her eyes. "We're in this together, love. And you know Connor DeLacy won't be hostile. Plus the whole team. I didn't tell you, and I bet no one else did either: you should have seen Sue in that surveillance van. Since she was reading for us, she got to essentially 'live' that nightmare, too. At one point I tried to get her to stop, but she about bit my hand off."
Elizabeth's breath came out in a laugh. "You covered her eyes, did you? I used to get the same reaction from Connie when I'd sneak up on her. I think she gave me a black eye once."
Myles chuckled. "Hey, when do I get to meet this sister of yours, anyway? We haven't been around your family since that weekend at your grandfather's place, and Connie was on a business trip or something."
"Hmmm… maybe I can get her to come down for a week or so after all this mess is over. Or, she said something about a conference in D.C. in September; we might be able to get together then." She snuggled closer to him, a spark of mischief lighting her eyes. "You'll like her. Especially now that you seem to have discovered some of the advantages of knowing a silent language."
He gave her a look. "Yes, yes, I admit it, all right? My conversation with Jack would have been impossible without the fingerspelling and the few signs I actually remember." He leaned over to kiss her gently, then stroked her cheek. "You tired? It's been rather a long day."
Elizabeth nodded, stifling a yawn. "It has. But I'm going to take one more step today."
"What's that?"
"I'm going to finally let you have your own bedroom back. I think I can handle the guest room now."
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U.S. District Courthouse, Washington D.C.
Thursday, July 1 (two weeks into Myles' suspension)
4 p.m.
"Well, that's that." Marty Pavone closed his briefcase as the last of the courtroom emptied. Only the team and Elizabeth remained. "In two weeks, we start to take this nut down permanently."
"Marty," Elizabeth said quietly, "he's not a nut. I know the defense is going to try for an insanity plea, but he is not crazy. He never has been. Referring to him as a nut isn't going to help."
He nodded. "You're absolutely right. I won't forget."
"How hard's it going to be to get a jury for this one, Marty?" Dimitrius leaned back against the table, crossing his arms. "It's not like it's been quiet press-wise."
"Actually, Agent Gans," the lawyer replied, "after Connor DeLacy's press conference at his mother's funeral, it's been remarkably quiet, considering. The trick now is to keep it quiet until the 15th when jury selection begins." He looked directly at Elizabeth. "The press will be all over you anywhere you go. I think you know how to handle it?"
She nodded and slipped her arm around Myles' waist. "They'll have to follow us around in Home Depot® then," she quipped brightly, "because I'm going to be entirely too busy to give any statements or interviews. We have a room to finish remodeling."
Bobby couldn't resist. "'We'? As in you and Myles? Are you selling tickets?"
She didn't miss a beat, and pointed a finger at him. "You show up to heckle, you get put to work. House rules."
He held up his hands. "I feel a busy caseload coming up."
There was laughter all around at that, and Marty Pavone picked up his briefcase. "Well, then, I leave you in each other's capable hands. See you on the 15th." He walked out of the room.
"Anyone up for dinner?" Tara glanced around at the group.
D had to get home, but most of the rest agreed. Myles gave Elizabeth a long, searching gaze before he replied, even after she nodded. "Tara? We'll meet you all downstairs, okay?"
She nodded in understanding. "Gotcha. Come on, guys. If he's not in on the discussion of where, then we won't have to worry about Bobby griping all night about Le Petit Monsieur."
The usual good-natured debate about the restaurant faded as the group walked out. Myles turned back to Elizabeth and caught her chin in his hand. "You're sure you're up for this? You looked pretty pale most of the afternoon. They'll understand."
She smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "I'm sure. After all that today, I could use a night of good friends and a lot of laughter. We're on our way, love. I think we should celebrate it."
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Dillingham Residence, Georgetown
Friday, July 9th (third week of suspension)
5 p.m.
Elizabeth wiped at her forehead and surveyed the room. "I have never been so glad to have air-conditioning in this house. But it's done."
Myles pulled her into his arms, a mischievous grin on his face along with the several streaks of dirt. "You know, there's just something about an empty expanse of new carpet that just begs you to lie down and check it out. What do you say, sweetheart?"
She laughed and moved her lips close to his ear. "It's called oxygen deprivation from the carpet fumes. And, with this hot spell, add probable heat exhaustion to the recipe. But it does sound—" Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and she walked over to the window. "It's Bobby. Figures he'd show up about the time we're finished."
Myles laughed. "You want to go down, or should I?"
"You go ahead. Let him see for himself that you weren't just supervising. I'll finish getting everything cleaned up and ready to take out to the garage."
He went downstairs, and she heard him greet Bobby. "There's some lemonade in the fridge," she called. She gathered up the tack strips and the tools they'd been using, dumped them all into a bucket to take downstairs. Then she straightened and looked around the room again. It was wonderful to see the room done, and they'd had a lot of fun doing it. Even the paint war at Home Depot, she thought with a smile. But we reached a good compromise. I like this. We'll have some fun over the coming years, I'm sure.
She then gathered up the carpet scraps and tossed them into the bathroom trash can, then brought the container out to take down to the big container outside. She heard quiet voices coming upstairs. Suddenly, her foot hit the small trash can, tipping it over, and she stooped to clean up the mess.
"As you will see, we did a superlative job." Myles' voice reached her as she finished. "By all means, enter and admire." She stood up to greet Bobby, and caught the tail end of Myles' sweeping hand gesture— about six inches from her face.
It exploded in her mind like a bomb; Graham's hand slamming into her face. She raised a hand to block the blow she saw, and backed up against the wall, a cry escaping her lips. Myles turned and realized what had just happened. The horror that filled his eyes was too much for her; she collapsed against the wall, sobbing as she slid to the floor.
Myles was at her side in an instant. "Elizabeth? Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were standing right there…" He held up a hand as Bobby started to back out of the room. The Aussie nodded and knelt next to them.
"I hate this!" she almost screamed, balling up her fists to flank her cheeks. "I hate that he's in every part of my life, that he can ruin absolutely everything!"
Myles took her by the shoulders, his voice gentle. "Elizabeth, it's only been three weeks. You can't expect the experience to just wash out of your psyche in that short time."
She looked up at him, her eyes still glistening. "But… I know… absolutely know… that you would never hit me, Myles. It's driving me crazy that Graham can make me react like that to you. I want this over." Her voice broke at that, and she buried her head on his shoulder.
Myles looked up at Bobby. The Aussie's eyes widened at the tears he saw in the blue-grey eyes; without thinking, he reached out to grip his friend's arm. They sat there for a long minute, locked in a comfortable silence neither had realized was possible. Then Elizabeth raised her head and saw them.
She watched them, both unaware of her scrutiny; then a fond smile broke through her tears. "My goodness," she said, "If all this can bring a bonding moment between the two of you, it just might be worth it."
Bobby laughed and gave Myles' arm a brief squeeze before he let go. "Don't get your hopes up, sheila," he teased, his eyes still on his colleague.
"Heaven forbid," Myles countered, a gleam in his own eye. "I don't think the rest of the team could take it." He brushed her hair back out of her face. "You okay?"
She sighed. "I guess so. It just all kind of tunneled in there for a minute. I'm sorry I fell apart. I was just so angry…"
"At Graham?" Bobby asked.
She shook her head. "No, at myself for reacting the way I did." She reached over and patted the Aussie's arm. "I'm glad you were here, though. Myles shouldn't have to put up with me all by himself."
Bobby glanced at his teammate again, then surprised them both. "I think he's doing a pretty good job."
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Leland Residence, Columbia Heights
Thursday, October 28
8 p.m.
Today Evan Graham was found guilty of eight counts of first-degree murder, plus kidnapping, assault and attempted murder, after nearly twelve weeks of trial and two of jury deliberation. The pen flew across the page, bold strokes that bespoke the peace that finally flooded his soul. The court will sentence him on November 3rd; Marty's confident Graham will get the death penalty. I hope he's right. It's not often I wish for such harsh measures, but in this case I want his presence gone from our lives, once and for all. Until Elizabeth is whole again, I cannot ask her what my heart desires more than anything…
Myles let the sentence trail off; he'd been over this in his mind a dozen times, and he knew that she'd want to be completely healed. That the trial was finally over was a good step; knowing that Graham would never be able to hurt her again would take it further. "I need to be strong on my own again before I can be strong with you."
He sat back in the leather chair, watching the rain pound on the study window. It was promising to be a wet autumn this year. Tonight was secluded; Tara, Sue and Lucy had swiped Elizabeth away for a full-blown "girls' night out," D had plans with his family, and Jack and Bobby were on loan to another unit for the evening. But the rain was comforting, and he didn't mind the solitude.
What a ride it's been, he thought, idly thumbing back through his writings over the past three months. When Sam had suggested it as a bit of "pencil therapy," Myles had seen the value of it right away. He already kept a journal; it was his way of both honing his literary skills and emptying his mind after particularly grueling weeks.
The last week of his suspension had been fairly calm; the day after they'd finished carpeting, Elizabeth had asked him to join her for a couple of her sessions that week with Dr. Sutherland. It hadn't been anything huge, but being able to really talk it out, with Elizabeth there, had relieved a great deal of tension for them both. In the meantime, they had gone shopping together for her new bedroom set, and wrestled the pieces up the stairs themselves. It was satisfying work, and it had brought them even closer. He had felt ready that day to make the last step into a commitment, but he didn't want to propose with Graham still haunting their lives.
And haunt was exactly the right word for the weeks that followed. Even though Myles was back at work, because the team were all witnesses in the case, they spent most of their time for the first two months of the trial in court. Evan Graham, though he never said a word the whole time, seemed determined to spook them all; especially Myles and Elizabeth themselves…
…Marty wants to take his case chronologically. I cannot disagree; there's so much that went on, it's difficult to keep it straight by any other means. Today was terrible; not so much question-wise, but Graham kept staring at me while I was on the stand. That smug, perverted smile on his face as Marty asked me to recall everything that went on while Elizabeth was staying at my house, the phone call, that damnable box he sent to the office… But I didn't look at him once. It helped me, but I could tell Graham was getting frustrated. He kept fidgeting.
I should have looked at him, just once…it probably would have diffused what came next. After the defense's cross-examination, I was allowed to step down and Marty called Elizabeth to the stand. I knew she'd been watching him watching me, and I could tell she was concerned he'd do the same to her. He didn't disappoint.
If only I'd had just a moment, even long enough to squeeze her hand… But I didn't. I could only watch as Marty began his questioning, and Graham's eyes followed her every move, every blink, every breath. She tried so hard… At one point she looked over at me, her eyes filled with pleading. I had no recourse; I could do no more than sign "I love you" to her. Had Sue been sitting next to me, I'd have asked her how to sign "stay strong," but she was father down the bench with Jack.
Finally, finally, the day ended and court adjourned. Elizabeth was the last on the stand; she'll be there again tomorrow morning. I spent this evening holding her while she cried. She's been staying at her house for two weeks now, but tonight she is asleep in the guest room again. Today was simply too much for her…
So much of those early weeks had ended with evenings like that; but slowly, as the case against Graham closed in, Elizabeth had started realizing that the control was hers now. By the end of the prosecution's case presentation, she could stare Graham down without hesitation. It had been immensely satisfying to watch the man realize he was losing his grip on her, and to watch her strength return.
Much of the hostility they had expected from the press and the victims' families never materialized. Myles was eternally grateful for Connor DeLacy; the young man had been a most stalwart ally. Elizabeth had been shocked to realize that the two women killed in Cambridge— Ellen Nichols and Nancy Davis— were actually siblings of high school classmates to whom she'd been fairly close. Because the women had married, their names didn't ring a bell until their parents showed up. That had been the hardest— fighting off the impulse to blame herself for the families now missing mothers, wives, daughters, sisters— but she'd overcome that as well. She had granted just one interview, to convey her grief and condolences. The journalist had been Darcy D'Angelo.
It took the better part of two months for the prosecution to finish up; the defense took much less time, because they had relatively few witnesses. Most of the case centered around trying to prove Graham was insane. Myles had watched the jury very carefully; not many of them seemed to be buying it, regardless of the three "experts" who'd presented the findings of their evaluations. He suspected it was because Marty had already had Elizabeth recap her original evaluation from eight years ago. It was certainly difficult for him to believe that a man not in complete control of his faculties could have masterminded such an intricate plan.
In the end, it had taken two weeks of deliberation for the jury to get a unanimous vote on the insanity issue. Myles had felt the tension in Elizabeth's hand as the jury foreman stood…
"We, the jury, find the defendant, Evan Graham, guilty on all charges."
It took every ounce of control I had not to look at Graham. Instead, I pulled Elizabeth closer against my shoulder and gave her a quick, intense kiss. "It's done," I whispered, and watched her eyes light up.
"Not quite," she responded, "but this certainly takes it much closer." Then she stood and deliberately faced Evan Graham, her chin lifted just slightly as he glared at her.
"Game, set, match," she mouthed silently, then turned on her heel and walked out of the courtroom.
Myles flipped the notebook closed, absently running his fingers over the smooth leather binding. Now, he thought, we just have to put it all behind us. I wish she could get back her love of poetry… and I wish I could shake that damnable nightmare. Then, we'll be ready for the rest of our lives.
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U.S. District Courthouse, Washington D.C.
Wednesday, November 3
4 p.m.
It had been a long day. Because of the death penalty request, they had recapped the basics of the trial. The team now sat together with Elizabeth, collectively holding their breath.
"Evan Graham, having been found guilty of eight counts of murder in the first degree, plus numerous sundry charges, this court sentences you to death by lethal injection, to be carried out on September 7th of next year." The judge's voice resonated through the courtroom like a bell. "This court is adjourned."
This time she didn't bother to look at him; Elizabeth simply took Myles' arm and they walked out of the courtroom. He couldn't read the expression on her face, but he decided to wait until they were alone to ask her.
"Dr. Dillingham." They turned to see Graham's attorney, a public defender, coming toward them. "May I have a word with you, for just a moment?"
She gave Myles a questioning glance; he didn't know what was going on any more than she did, so he shrugged a "why not?" at her.
"All right, Mr. Short." She gripped Myles' hand tightly as the attorney motioned them into an empty interview room and closed the door behind them.
"What's this about?" Myles' tone left little doubt of his suspicion.
The man cleared his throat, then looked directly at Elizabeth. "I just wanted to say, Dr. Dillingham, that I'm glad things worked out the way they did. There are times when being a public defender is not the noble profession I thought it would be. This case is one of those times. I'm sorry for what you had to go through, both with Graham and then here in the courtroom."
Elizabeth stared at him for a long minute. Then she held a hand out to him. "I know it wasn't personal, Mr. Short. Thank you for saying it, though." Myles nodded his agreement silently.
"Thank you, Dr. Dillingham, for accepting it. Agent Leland." He nodded a farewell and silently left.
Myles placed a hand on her shoulder. "I will never censure a public defender again. That's got to be one of the hardest jobs in the world."
Elizabeth nodded, and opened the door. "Let's get out of here, shall we? I've seen enough of the inside of this building for a lifetime."
The press met them at the steps, of course; he tried to shield her as they pushed their way through the noisy crowd.
"Dr. Dillingham, are you pleased with the sentencing?"
Her head snapped up at that, and Myles felt her pull on his hand to stop. She faced the group, her expression still unreadable but calmer somehow. He held his breath.
"Pleased? No; I could never say that I am pleased that a human life will be taken, certainly not after all this. But do I feel that justice has been done for the families who lost loved ones? Yes. Very much so."
"And for your own ordeal as well?"
She tilted her head, considering what to say, and for a moment he saw a flash of green fire. Then it was gone, along with whatever had been weighing her heart. "Justice was served for me the moment three FBI agents put their lives on the line to prevent Evan Graham from doing far worse to me than he did. It will be served again when I can put the rest of this behind me, and look toward the future." She looked at Myles, on the step just below her, and gently stroked his cheek, a smile blossoming on her face. "I have very definite plans, just as soon as Graham is out of my head for good. Now, if you'll excuse us…"
He led her out of the flock of reporters and over to his car, opening the door for her. "You realize," he said with a smile, "that you just guaranteed us a spot in every gossip column in the city."
Elizabeth smiled up at him. "At this point, I don't care who knows. Do you?"
"Hmm… How shall I answer that?" He glanced back over his shoulder to where the knot of reporters were still eyeing them. Then he drew her back to her feet, took her face in his hands, and captured her mouth in a luxurious kiss. They heard flash units going off like popcorn, but neither seemed to notice.